


Tee'd Off

by IncurableNecromantic



Series: Tumblr prompts [6]
Category: Emperor's New Groove (2000), Hercules (1997)
Genre: Gen, Golfing, Kronk is the PA of my dreams, day-drinking, evil besties, golf applause, it took everything within my soul not to have Yzma order a Cock-Sucking Cowboy, sportsmanship, the sacrifices I make for you people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 04:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncurableNecromantic/pseuds/IncurableNecromantic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hades and Yzma have a golf date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tee'd Off

Hades loved golf.

Hey, how could he not? Just the idea of people hurling tiny hard balls at each other at lethal velocities was enough to get him all warm and fuzzy inside. Over and above that, the culture around golf just couldn’t be beat. He loved the ugly-ass pants and the stupid hats and the excuse to drink in daylight. He loved the country-club aesthetic and the stressed-out, increasingly impotent elderly men that bought into it. He loved the grin-and-bear-(or-grin-and-bare)-it, desperate smiles of their trophy wives and mistresses as they squandered their lives and youth. He loved the servants and the caddies and the sense of possession, of futile waste, the absurd fact that humans were happy to turn all of this farm-ready land into a playground for a stupid game, where the winner scored as few points as possible.

He loved the sounds of golf. He loved bellowing “fore!” He loved the hard crack of the club striking the ball. And he especially loved the swish of the swinging club slicing through the air, shearing off the tips of the green grass. 

The first time he’d swung a golf club, he’d finally understood why Charon’s skinny cousin liked running around with that big scythe all the time.

His ball dog-legged through the air and his eyebrows only turned a little orange. Jeez, he was relaxed. Even being angry was kind of therapeutic when he was golfing.

"Tch," said his companion, holding a veiny and clawed hand over her eyes. Wrinkles multiplied around her eyes and her false eyelashes batted in an unimpressed blink. "I believe you sliced it."

"I believe you’re going blind," Hades replied. "Put your reading glasses on."

Yzma flipped him a desultory bird and got out of the golf cart. Holding her huge sunhat on her head with one hand, she slipped her driver out of her bag and sashayed up to the tee, hips like switch blades rising and falling beneath her golf skirt. 

Hades sucked down the last of his drink. ”Where’s the bag rat?”

"Getting me another Sex on the Beach," she replied, setting her purple ball on the tee. Hades let that image sink in for a few moments before grinning and shuddering in pleasant revulsion.

"I ever tell you about these three sisters I know?"

"Quiet," Yzma said, licking her finger and testing the wind.

“‘Cause I think you gals would get along great.”

"Shush," she insisted, hunching down over the ball and examining the shot to the green.

"I mean, seriously, I’m pretty sure you must’ve all been school girls together—"

"Shut up—"

"—and I bet nowadays you could get a knitting circle together and trade makeup tips or something and—"

Yzma casually winged her driver at his head and only the quick reflexes of a deity who has had his fair share of golf clubs winged at him saved his cocktail glass and the alignment of his nose.

"Oh, Yzma," Yzma’s caddie chirped, trotting up to the tee and carrying two cocktails. Hades hadn’t thought booty shorts were considered country-club appropriate attire, but then again if he had an ass like Ganymede over here he’d want to show it off, too. "Looks like you dropped your driver, there." 

"Thank you, Kronk," Yzma said, tugging more firmly on her white golf glove and taking both driver and cocktail from her servant. She held the glass to her lips and chugged the drink in a few short pulls. 

Hades snagged the other drink from Kronk’s little tray. 

"I think a Harvey Wallbanger next," Yzma said, smacking her lips. "A little fruit juice keeps one’s complexion healthy, you know."

"The more experienced lushes would just have the entire bar brought out here," Hades observed.

"The more discriminating lushes would not," she replied. "After all, how would we ever keep the ice cold? Another, Kronk, and step on it."

"You got it, Yzma. Can I get you a couple of canapes?" Kronk asked. "You won’t believe the buffet they have here, king crab legs, veal scallopini, lobster tail, petit fours, rack of lamb, caviar, broccolini fritters…"

"Mm, yes, I think so," his employer sighed. "Hades?"

"Snag me some of those little bitty spanakopitas," Hades said, slugging down his own drink.

"That will be all," Yzma said to Kronk. She twisted violently and slapped her driver against the ball. It went whizzing through the air, accompanied by Hades’ belated and half-gargled "MISS!"

"Sportsmanlike," Yzma sneered as her boytoy trotted off in search of more liquor and heavy hors d’oeuvres. "Let’s move. I’ve got a tantric massage at three."

"Ma’am," Hades purred, taking her hand and installing her safely in the golf cart before driving out towards the green.


End file.
